“I don’t know,” she said. “Sable wants to talk with you directly.”
“When?” he asked.
“Now.”
Hess nodded. “Give him the Eye. I’ll do the rest.”
Aria fractioned out, but she didn’t take the Smarteye off yet. In the real, Sable’s gaze held on her. Keeping her breathing steady, she chose the Phantom mask.
Soren spoke as soon as she joined him at the opera hall. “I’m on it.”
“You’ll record their meeting? I want to know everything they say, Soren. I want to see it myself.”
“I already said I would.” A grin spread across his face. “Not bad, Aria. Not bad.”
Aria fractioned out and took off the Smarteye, holding it in the palm of her hand. Her fingers still shook, and she couldn’t get them to stop. “It’s set up,” she said to Sable. “Hess is waiting for you.”
Sable held out his hand, but she hesitated, suddenly feeling possessive over the device. She’d helped Perry into the Realms willingly last fall, but this felt different. Like she was inviting a stranger into something private. She had no choice. Sable would give Hess the location of the Still Blue in exchange for transport. Her part of the deal would be done. She’d be able to get Talon back and be free of Hess.
She handed it to Sable. “Place it over your left eye, like I did. It’ll pull tight to your skin. Stay calm, breathe slowly, and you’ll adjust. Hess will bring you into a Realm once the device is activated.”
Candlelight reflected on the device as Sable examined it. Satisfied, he applied it over his eye. Aria saw his shoulders stiffen as the biotech worked, and then relax as he adjusted to the gentle pressure. Moments later he grunted softly, his focus growing distant, and she knew he’d fractioned to the Realms. He was with Hess. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Aria relaxed in her chair and imagined the negotiations happening right then between Sable and Hess. Who would hold the upper hand? She’d see everything later, thanks to Soren. She’d never have expected to have him as an ally on the inside.
Minutes passed in silence before Sable jerked upright. He looked around the room, and then removed the Smarteye. “Unbelievable,” he said, staring at the device in his hand.
“What did Hess say?” she asked.
Sable drew a few slow breaths. “I told him what I need. He’s looking into it.”
“So we wait?” Aria asked. “How long?”
“A few hours.”
She gasped. That was soon. She couldn’t believe the plan was working. She felt like she’d just taken her first step back toward the Tides. Toward Perry.
Sable rose from the table. “Let’s go, Olivia,” he said, walking to the door.
Aria shot to her feet. “Wait,” she said. “The Smarteye. I’ll bring it back when it’s time.”
He turned back to her. “No need. I’ll keep it.”
Liv came to her side. “Sable, it’s hers.”
“Not anymore,” he said, and then spoke to the guards by the door. “Keep them here overnight. I might still have need for the Dweller. Then see them out of the city at first light.” Sable’s steel-blue eyes moved to Liv. “You understand, I’m sure, why your friends can’t stay.”
Liv glanced at Roar, who stood a few feet away, frozen. “I understand,” she said. Then she followed Sable from the room without a backward glance.
Hours later, Aria sat at the table with Roar, watching the rust-colored drapes stir in the wind. The dining room was cloaked in darkness, the only light coming through the open balcony doors. Every so often, she heard the muffled voices of the guards posted in the corridor.
She rubbed her arms, feeling numb. Sable had surely met with Hess again by now. He had used her and discarded her. She shook her head. He was just like Hess.
Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the stones on the balcony slick, reflecting the glow of the sky. From where she sat, she could see currents of Aether. Bright rivers, flowing against the darkness. They’d see another storm soon. It didn’t shock her anymore. Eventually, the storms would come every day, and it would be just like the Unity. Decades of constant funnels crashing across the earth, coating it in destruction. But it wouldn’t spread over everything.
In her mind, she pictured an oasis. A golden place that shimmered in the sunlight. She imagined a long pier, with seagulls wheeling in the blue sky above. She pictured Perry and Talon together, fishing at the end, content and relaxed. Cinder would be there too, watching them, holding his hat to keep it from blowing away. She imagined Liv and Roar nearby, whispering to each other, planning some kind of mischief that would lead, inevitably, to someone being tossed into the water. And she would be there. She’d sing something gentle and pretty. A song that would hold the sway of the waves and the warm feel of the sun. A song that would capture how she felt for all of them.
That was what she wanted. It was her Still Blue, and every breath she took, every second that passed, she could choose to fight for it, or not.
She realized it was no choice at all. She would always fight.
Aria stood and motioned for Roar to follow her to the balcony. As she stepped outside, the ghostly moan of the wind raised the hair on her arms. Below, she saw the Snake River, its black water rippling with Aether light. Smoke lifted up from the chimneys of homes along the banks, and she could see the bridge she and Roar had crossed only yesterday. In the darkness it stood as an arc dotted with points of firelight.
Roar stood beside her, his jaw tense, his brown eyes tight with anger.
She reached for his hand.
We’re going to steal the Eye back. We can take the ledge to the next balcony and slip inside. I can get us to Sable’s room. I need the Still Blue for Talon. For Perry. If it’s on the Eye, then we’ll have what we came for. We’ll get Liv and get out of here.
It was a desperate plan. Flawed and dangerous. But their window for action was closing by the minute. In hours, they’d be thrown out of Rim. The time for risks was now.
“Yes,” Roar whispered urgently. “Let’s go.”
Aria peered over the low wall that bordered the balcony. A small ledge ran to the next balcony, about twenty feet away. It was just a small lip of stone, barely four inches wide. She looked down. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but her stomach clenched like she’d been punched. The drop to the Snake was sixty feet, she guessed. A fall from this height could be lethal.
She swung her legs over the wall and stepped onto the ledge. A gust set her shirt flapping. She gasped, curling her back at the chill that raced up her spine. Digging her fingers into the grooves, she drew a breath and took her first steps away from the balcony. Then another step. And then another.
She skimmed her hands over the stone blocks, grasping cracks and edges as she kept her gaze on her feet. She heard the soft brush of Roar’s feet behind her, and the drift of a woman’s laughter from somewhere above.
Her gaze darted over. Halfway there.
Her boot slipped. Her shin smacked the ledge. She grasped desperately at stone, fingernails lifting, tearing. Roar’s fingers clamped onto her arm, steadying her. She pressed her cheek against the stone wall, every muscle in her body clenching. As close as she pushed herself to the wall, it wasn’t enough. She breathed, forcing her mind away from the feeling of falling backward.
“I’m right here,” Roar whispered. His hand splayed on her back, firm and warm. “I won’t let you fall.”
She could only nod. She could only keep going.
One step at a time, she inched toward the other balcony. As she neared, she saw a pair of double doors. They were open, but there was only darkness beyond. She waited, forcing back her eagerness to be off the slippery ledge, letting her ears tell her what awaited inside.
She didn’t hear anything. Not a sound.
Aria hopped over the low wall and dropped into a crouch. She set a hand down, needing just a quick connection with solid ground. Roar landed soundlessly beside her.
Together, they skimmed across the balcony. A quick testing glance through the doors showed an empty, darkened room. They stepped inside, silent, weaponless.
Only the Aether light flowing through the doors illuminated the chamber, but it was enough to see that the space was bare—possessing no more furniture than a few chairs pushed to the corner. Roar moved swiftly toward them. She heard two muffled snaps. He returned and handed her something. A broken horn spur. Aria tested the feel of it in her hand. It was roughly the same length as her knives. Not as sharp, but it would do as a weapon.
Moving to the door, they listened for sounds in the hall. Silence. They slipped outside and hurried toward Sable’s room. Lamps flickered along the way, creating pools of shadow and light. She firmed her grip on the horn handle. She’d spent the winter practicing her fighting skills with Roar. Learning speed. Momentum. Stealth. She felt ready, the rush in her blood on the edge between eagerness and fear.
Liv’s room was close, and Sable’s wouldn’t be much farther.
Aria heard footsteps. She froze. Ahead of her, Roar tensed. Two strides echoed to her ears. Both heavyset, the knock of their heels firm against the stones. The sound bounced—in front of her one instant, behind the next. She saw the same uncertainty in Roar’s eyes. Which way? There was no time.
They surged forward together, feet gliding, devouring the stone hall. They’d either avoid the guards or run right into them.
They reached the end just as a pair of guards came around the corner, and then they moved like they’d rehearsed it. Roar lunged for the largest man, closest to him. Aria sprang on the other.
She rammed the horn into the guard’s temple. The strike was solid, the impact jarring, shooting up her arm. The man rocked back, stunned. She grasped the knife at his belt and drew it, ready for her second strike. Ready to cut. But his eyes rolled back, and he was fading. She jammed the hilt of the knife into his jaw, knocking him out, and still had time to grasp the sleeve of his uniform, softening the sound of his fall.
For an instant she stared at the guard—at his ruddy complexion and slack mouth—soundly defeated on the floor, and she felt a confidence that a tattoo could never give her. She turned to see Roar straighten over the other guard’s body. He slid a knife into his belt, his dark eyes flicking to hers, cool and focused. He tipped his chin, gesturing down the hall, and then hoisted the man he’d slain up over his shoulder.
Aria couldn’t carry the other guard alone, and there was no time to second-guess. She sprinted for Liv’s room. Pulling herself short at Liv’s door, she grasped the iron handle, and stepped inside.
Light from the hall spilled into the darkened room. Liv lay on her bed, awake, on top of the covers. When she saw Aria, she shot to her feet, landing on the floor with a quiet thump. She wore her day clothes, down to her boots.
Liv looked from Aria to the door. Then she bolted into the hall without uttering a word. Aria shot after her. They passed Roar, carrying the guard over his shoulder. Silently, Liv held the man Aria had knocked out beneath the arms. Aria took him by his feet. Together, they carried him into Liv’s room and set him down against the wall, where Roar had set the other man. Aria darted back to the open door. Carefully, she eased it closed, listening to the hardware click softly into place.